Wednesday, September 27, 2017

wanting my life back

Ok, I'm already ashamed of what I'm about to write--but I need to write it, say it in print--just to let it go a little.

Our 12 year old Puli, Bela, is obviously growing senile and having aching joints. I get that, I really do. And I mourn it. But he is now running my life. He's decided, for reasons beyond my comprehension, that he likes his 'man' (me) more than his 'woman' (Bern), so he wants to be with me constantly--but he wants to be with me where he wants to be and not where I want to be.

Just this evening, for example--I was grilling dinner and he kept wanting me to go inside because, well, it was warm and he hates hot...always has. So, I let him in the kitchen door about half-a-dozen times and then he would bark for me to come in. It would take a minute or more to convince him I was on the deck before he'd come out. Then he'd go bark to go in, I'd let him in and he'd bark for me to come in and I'd have to plead with him for over a minute to come back out. Then, all that, all over again.

Bern took her dinner upstairs and somehow got him up--we have to hold his hips as he goes up the front stairs. He can go up the fully carpeted back stairs much easier...but won't. So he barked for me to come up until I got my dinner and did.

Then he barked at Bern to share her food, though he eats a ton everyday. When I went down to clean up, he came, after barking for me to come back up. Then he barked to go out and pee and I let him and wanted to sit on the porch in the dark and smoke a cigarette but he came back from the yard and barked until I got up and let him in.

Then we came upstairs again (big production) and he wanted to go into the bedroom where there is AC and I wanted to come to my office (AC as well) so he barked at the bedroom door until I went and forced him to the office. His office water bowl was empty so when I went to the bathroom next to the office to fill it, he went back down the hall to bark at the bedroom door until I went to force him back to my office.

My life is like that all day. When I'm out, he'll go upstairs and sleep on our bed (he has no trouble going up when I'm out) until I come home. Then he's constantly with me.

I love him so and don't want him to die but I want my life back the way it was until the last few months when he was much more independent.

Sorry to complain. I'm embarrassed about it but I just feel at his beck and call every moment I'm home.

Deep breath. I love him so. Let me be more patient with him, Lord....

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some ponderings by an aging white man who is an Episcopal priest in Connecticut. Now retired but still working and still wondering what it all means...all of it.